


Father's Day

by DoubleMastectomy



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Comfort, Domestic, Father's Day, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleMastectomy/pseuds/DoubleMastectomy
Summary: Traditions of anger and sadness aside, there's one last way that Father’s Day is celebrated in the Zones: Dr. Death Defying and Cherri Cola are given gifts.
Relationships: Agent Cherri Cola/Dr. Death Defying (Danger Days)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Father's Day sucks <3

Cherri Cola opens up the radio station's front door to let in some fresh air. It’s morning just before dawn, and the last of the night's breeze chills him awake. He can tell it’ll be a beautiful morning already. The stars, although dimming as the black sky grows chalky, are happily twinkling away in clusters behind wispy strands of clouds hanging low to the earth. Just beyond the farthest zone hills, hints of purple spill out like watercolors welcoming the sunrise that'll soon come. And in front of Cherri, on their concrete doorstep, sits a package wrapped in brown twine.

Cherri adjusts the robe he’s wearing to fit more snug, a little self conscious that there might be someone else outside with him, but when he looks around, to his right and then his left, everything is just as quiet and desolate as he’d been assuming it was. A few birds call in the distance just now waking up. A few bare bushes and scattered trees rattle in the light wind. But between it all there’s not a single killjoy or aura in sight besides himself.

He picks up the package. It’s not large but it’s moderately sized, about a foot both wide and tall. It’s wrapped up neatly in some homemade paper dry to the touch and on the front a small piece of cardstock is taped, folded in half. He runs a finger under the front of it, flipping it open, to find a note written in amateur calligraphy.

It reads simply, “D and Cola - 

Happy Father’s Day to the only zone dads who matter. Stay shiny!”

It’s then signed by one of the local gangs, a recently founded quintet of young killjoys who’d already been mentioned by name a few times in the traffic report for their semi-notable claps.

Cherri sighs at the bittersweet note. He hopes those joys are doing alright. He hadn’t realized this day would be so soon, but he supposes it’s been a while since the last time it’d rolled around so really he shouldn't be that surprised.

He walks back into the radio station and flips on a light switch. “D,” he calls out, “Y’know what day it is?” Setting the package onto the coffee table he falls backwards into their couch, drumming his fingers over the armrest.

Around the corner where Dr. D had been getting set up for their morning broadcast, he replies, “No, why? You hear something? Did the airwaves bring something in?” Cherri can hear some papers shuffling, probably D looking around for whatever misplaced news bulletin he’d forgotten the date of.

“Surprised you can’t feel it in the sun -”

“Sun’s not out yet, Col'.”

“But it’ll be joining us soon. And with it, The Pony's gonna be bringing us plenty of gifts.”

“Gifts?”

“It’s Father’s Day, D. Hope you’ve got some good news for ‘em cause the desert'll be needing it.”

D's silent for a moment. Cherri turns towards the doorway listening intently for his response and wistfully smiling to himself.

“ _Shit_.”

There it is. Now D’s on the same page as him. “I already got one that a little birdie must’ve left us. When you wanna see it, it’s here.”

“Go ahead and open it, I better get rolling before today’s riptide turns into a tempest.”

Though D’s not in the room to see it, Cherri nods. Fair’s fair. 

Father’s Day is notorious in the Zones for many reasons. The most infamous of which being the undercurrent of aggression it seems to rile up. Few killjoys like this holiday and with the new generation growing more and more impulsive and ruthless every year it doesn’t take much for them to turn on each other. Hopefully today’s broadcast will offer some peace for their troubles. Cherri’s sure D’s already picking out some laid-back tracks to play them.

The other main issue-at-hand for the day (and the root cause of the increase in violence as well, according to Cherri) is that it’s largely a day for grieving. Cityborn killjoys tend to loathe their fathers if they knew them. The city’s family dynamics are across the board abusive and neglectful, even in the best of cases, churning out traumatized kids systematically. By the time killjoys are old enough to flee to the desert, they’re already saddled with endless baggage courtesy of their fathers and mothers, untold amounts of scabbed-over and unresolved emotions towards their dads that this unavoidable holiday only digs back up, bringing out the most painful of memories for everyone involved.

And desertborns don’t have it much easier. A killjoy’s lifespan isn’t a long one and there’s a reason why killjoys live in "gangs" not "families". Doesn’t matter how kind or loving a killjoy’s father is in his liberation from BL/i’s influence, chances are if he’s raising you in the desert he’ll be dead - or drac’d - by the time you can hold a gun.

Traditions of anger and sadness aside however, there's one last way that Father’s Day is celebrated in the Zones:

Dr. Death Defying and Cherri Cola are given gifts.

Whether fatherless through fate or choice, killjoys routinely cope by appointing Dr. D and Cherri the title of "fathers" year round. In Cherri's opinion this parasocial relationship isn’t ideal, but desperate for any sort of fatherly love or care killjoys will tune into WKIL 109 FMX religiously not just for the important news or warnings or weather reports, but just to hear their voices. To hear Dr. D introducing his favorite bands. To hear Cherri reciting poetry like a soft goodnight. The radio is the first thing killjoys hear in the morning and the last thing they hear as they fall asleep, and even when they’re off-air Cherri knows many joys will keep the empty static turned down low just for the comfort of keeping the one-way phone call open and inviting.

So naturally it follows that on Father’s Day they’re given gifts. Presents, money, art, writing, homemade crafts that are sometimes indulgently childish in nature, it all gets delivered directly to the radio station every year like clockwork. Whether by a shy hand, or in carpooled batches, or delivered as a favor by Show Pony who’s always willing, the donations find their way to them. Thank yous for the radio, thank yous for daily consolation, and thank yous for no reason other than just to say thank you to anyone at all.

Dr. D flips a switch and the "recording" sign hanging above Cherri’s back glows red. Cherri considers closing the door between the two rooms but he wants to hear this too.

“ _Gooooooood morning, sunshine_. 109 in the sky and the pigs gotta quit, cause today’s the day we all wanna forget. Our beloved Witch mother’ll be keeping us close by her fire tonight but for now you’re safe with me, Dr Death Defying, and no one’ll be dampening our colors today…”

As D continues, Cherry picks up that first package again, rotating it around in his hands and looking it over. He slips off the twine without untying it, leaving the wrapping paper bare. Then he opens it.

Inside there's two cans of soda with city labels he doesn’t recognize, some necklaces made of painted stones and crow feathers, and a tattered snapback that reads “#1 DILF” in DIY embroidery, which does get a chuckle out of him. Lastly, at the bottom of the box is a short stack of art. Each of this crew’s members must’ve drawn them something. He’ll be sure to hang it all up on display later.

For now though, he picks up the card that’d been taped to the gift and he silently walks into the recording studio. D’s playing a track now, just sitting back in his chair and listening as the record spins circles. Cherri places the card down on the desk in front of him and leans in to kiss his temple. “Thank them,” he whispers and heads back outside to wait for more deliveries that are sure to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Like always kudos/comments are appreciated, hope you enjoyed this one!


End file.
